


It's Alright, I'm Here

by selkieskin



Category: Black Books
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Self-Destruction, Suicide Attempt, Touching, Unhealthy Relationships, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selkieskin/pseuds/selkieskin
Summary: Set after the events of series 3, episode 1: 'Manny, Come Home'. After a visit to the hospital, Manny stares at Bernard, who is passed out drunk, and wonders how he ever got in this deep.





	It's Alright, I'm Here

Bernard had come back from the hospital and immediately started drinking.

It was probably good, in a manner of speaking – the doctors had been horrified by the man's vital signs and how outside the normal range they were, and then how they seemed to get worse as his body reacted badly to being without a constant supply of alcohol. Bernard had finally checked himself out after coming round and screaming at a few of the poor hospital staff about how they were trying to kill him, and here he was again, in his filthy chair, killing himself in his usual, time-worn way instead. It felt safer, somehow.

Manny watched as he got less and less coherent. He finally slumped forward onto the desk, in a small puddle of spilled red wine, and snored loudly. Manny stared at him, and wondered how this came to be.

They'd both referred to it as a break-up, he thought for the thousandth time, his head hurting from trying to puzzle out what that meant between them. They'd never... _done_ anything, whatever that could mean. He could barely even imagine that with Bernard. He was so prickly and defensive, so inflexible and reactionary, he couldn't imagine how he would even begin. Yet he knew his own feelings. Manny had always, always been attracted to women before, and it had taken him by surprise when he realised that this fascination wasn't much different than what he had experienced with his previous objects of affection. He'd always been of the philosophy though that whatever would happen, would happen, and if he one day fell for a man that wouldn't be a problem for him. His sexual orientation wasn't a big part of his identity, really, so that wasn't something that worried him.

It was a bit more complicated than that, though.

Bernard was... unlike anybody he'd ever met. He oozed a helplessness and inability to function that tugged at Manny right where it hurt. It felt like Bernard had a permanent grip on his heartstrings and would savagely yank at them whenever he needed anything. Before he knew it, Manny was consumed by the desire to do everything for him – to look after him, to protect him from the world, and try to do the impossible – to stop him from damaging himself the way he almost did so much of the time. This last time had really scared Manny, seeing this man who was his world and his life convulsing on the floor. The hospital worked out what chemicals he had ingested and where they might have come from, and Manny knew immediately that it was his fault. He hadn't been there, he hadn't put those things away where he couldn't find them, he hadn't done enough... The man had a self-destructive streak a mile wide, and knew the power that had over him. It was quite possible, maybe even probable, that Bernard had done that to force his hand. Try to kill himself, essentially, just to get Manny to look at him. It hadn't been necessary, in the end. 

Overkill. That was Bernard all over.

Bernard jerked awake and upright suddenly with a loud snort of sucked-in air, looking around blearily with the red wine dripping off his curly hair and down his face like blood, making Manny's stomach churn for a second, still hyper-alert from Bernard's near-miss and subsequent hospital trip. He picked up a cigarette to put in his mouth. He placed the other side of his head back in the puddle, chewed absently on the cigarette a few times, and drifted back off to sleep, leaving Manny's heart beating hard.

He was so beautiful.

Manny knew that wasn't a usual thing to think about Bernard Black, but he didn't care. He could look for hours at the contrast between the dark curly hair and the greyish skin. At the face that could have been handsome, if only he took better care of himself. That wobbly form, that childlike crooked smile, and the incapable pleading hands. Bernard looked back, he knew. He'd caught him more than a few times, staring as Manny set himself to busily rearranging books and then quickly looking back down at the pages of his book when Manny looked round. He was never as subtle as he thought he was.

Fran had commented on it, too. To both of them, probably. He remembered assuming Bernard was into men when they first met, to which Bernard had said that he once thought so too, but 'all that dancing' had put him off. Which didn't fool Manny. He doubted it fooled Bernard really, either. It was just a silly excuse, quite normal for the ridiculous man. According to Fran he'd slept with men before, at least, which was more than Manny had ever attempted. Manny was a bit jealous of that. More than a bit jealous.

He wanted to touch Bernard. Wanted to touch him like they had touched him. To touch his face, his hair, to watch him without having to hide it... He didn't know how. It was like Bernard might break if he tried. But there was one way that Manny was allowed to touch him – trying to carry him off to somewhere when he was passed out drunk. He'd start with that.

He got up and moved around the desk quietly, as had become his habit when trying to move Bernard from where he had come to rest.

“Bernard, I'm going to move you now,” he announced out loud before touching the man. His hand was practically shaking as he stared at Bernard's face, wanting desperately to move that dripping hair out of his eyes, but knowing not to touch. Not until he'd got some kind of response out of him anyway. “Bernard. Hey, Bernard.”

Bernard jerked upright again for the second time that evening.

“Hmm? What? Who are you? Whaddyuwant?” he spat, quick-fire.

“Bernard, it's no good for you here. Look, you've spilled wine all over the table. You'll wake up cold. I'm going to get you to the couch.” Easier than than his bed. He slept on the couch most nights anyway when the stairs felt like too much. Which for Bernard was almost every night.

Manny didn't wait for an answer. He manhandled Bernard to his feet, with an ineffectual growl from the drunk man, Manny's arm going around his waist for a better grip.

“There you go,” Manny said, soothing tones coming naturally.

“...Manny?” The croaky voice was barely more than a whine, plaintive as if he couldn't believe that Manny was finally back, that he was finally with him again. Manny gasped, shocked by the wave of emotions that came over him. Yes, he was back. He was really back.

And then Manny did something. He couldn't help it, the impulse was too much, he couldn't have possibly done anything else.

Instead of staying at Bernard's side, he twisted so they were face-to-face, and got both of his arms around the other man so he could hold him, properly, the way he'd always wanted to, for the first time in their lives. He pressed the other man to him, one hand cradling the back of his neck in the curls and burying his face in the shoulder of Bernard's stinking jacket. Bernard was too drunk to stand on his own, so Manny held him there, drinking in what he could while this lasted. Letting Bernard know that he was here at last. Letting Bernard know that he could never leave him, no matter how hard he tried. Manny was fighting back tears, and knew he was breathing hard. He prayed that Bernard knew. That Bernard knew how much he cared about him, and worried about him, and how much he was loved, simply loved.

Bernard's body twitched and Manny tensed, prepared for Bernard to shove him away or hit him or however else he thought he'd react, holding tighter unconsciously.

Manny felt Bernard's limp arms moving. Then he felt the hands clumsily grabbing at the back of his shirt, then fisting in the clothing and pulling at him, holding him like he was afraid he would drift away.

“I'm here, I'm here,” Manny said, babbling. “I love you. It's alright. I'm here.”

Bernard didn't answer, but he held on a little tighter.


End file.
